American Life in Poetry

Poet Marianne Boruch of Indiana finds a bird’s nest near her door. It is the simplest of discoveries, yet she uses it to remind us that what at first seems ordinary, even “made a mess of,” can be miraculously transformed upon careful reflection.

Nest

I walked out, and the nest

was already there by the step. Woven basket

of a saint

sent back to life as a bird

who proceeded to make

a mess of things. Wind

right through it, and any eggs

long vanished. But in my hand it was

intricate pleasure, even the thorny reeds

softened in the weave. And the fading

leaf mold, hardly

itself anymore, merely a trick

of light, if light

can be tricked. Deep in a life

is another life. I walked out, the nest

already by the step.